


Chocolate Chip Bagels and Watercolour Paints

by orphan_account



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Squip, Angst, Artist!Brooke, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Brooke-centric, Brooklyn, Coffee Shops, F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Miscarriage, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-04 23:36:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15851739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Brooke is the struggling artist from Brooklyn trying to deal with the death of her mother, a miscarriage, and a breakup, and trying to continue paying her rent and keep her scholarship.Chloe is the overworked owner and head baker of True Grit, the bakery and coffee shop five blocks from Brooke's apartment.Christine is Chloe's best friend and coworker at True Grit, who can't bake for shit or make coffee, but she does excel at singing and waiting tables and working the cash register.Their paths were bound to cross at some point.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Brooklyn Flowers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9695501) by [halo_dean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/halo_dean/pseuds/halo_dean). 



> Also partially inspired by the beautiful short animation, _Esma,_ which you can watch here: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=GPiGPK3KFc8

"Your works lately have been... subpar, Miss Lohst. You were doing beautifully just a month ago, but now, the quality of all your work has decreased dramatically, over an extremely short amount of time."

"I know, but... I've had stuff going on in my personal life. Lots of stuff."

"May I ask what, Miss Lohst? Or might the school guide counsellor ask? Because you were once one of my top students, and now you're nearly at the bottom. This is very worrying to me, especially since-"

"I might loose my scholarship, I know, I know. I'm trying, Professor Rodriguez, I really am."

"Again, may I ask what's going on? Family issues?"

"No, I'd prefer it if you didn't."

"Well, then, I'd highly recommend you pay Mrs. Jameson over in Building C a visit. She's free, if money is the issue, and if this quality of work continues to be turned in, you will be in danger of failing this class and loosing your scholarship. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal."

"I don't want to come off harsh, Miss Lohst, I am simply concerned for your scholarship and your mental and physical well-being. Dissmissed."

Brooke gathered her papers, shoved them in her backpack, grabbed a strap and slung it over her shoulder, and stalked out of class, her saddle shoes making gentle clicks on the old hardwood flooring.

It was the second time such a lecture had been given to her, but the first time from Professor Rodriguez, her favourite teacher. The first time had been her communications professor, Professor Way, after a particularly awful report she'd turned in.

Yes, her grades were slipping. But she had a lot of things on her plate, and she was trying. She was really trying.

But trying, apparently, wasn't good enough anymore.

"Hey, Brooke!"

She turned her head to see her best (and only) friend, Michael Mell, running up to her, guitar strapped to his back.

"Hey, Mikey, how was rehearsal?"

Michael was part of the orchestra for the play that the local community theatre was putting on, Dear Evan Hansen. He had rehearsals every other day, limiting the times they could hang out, but she was busy too. Busy looking for another job.

"It was fine. Did that YouTuber person call you back?"

"Yeah, but he turned me down. I think I might have to start doing commissions on tumblr."

"I'm sure people would buy those, you've got, what, ten thousand followers?"

"Yeah, but I haven't posted since before everything in September, Mike. I know I've lost a couple followers after that kind of unannounced hiatus."

"Relax, I'm sure the majority of your followers are still there. Maybe you should put up some adoptables, too."

"I mean, it could work, but my art Professor laid into me after class today, and I have to work extra hard on the next assignment."

"Your grades still slipping?"

"Very much so. He's worried, and you remember when Professor Way yelled at me."

"Yeah. You should really lay off the job search for a bit, just so that you can get your grades back up first."

"I _can't,_ Michael. I'm behind on rent, I'm behind on my medical bills because InsuraCare sucks and apparently I don't qualify for Medicaid, and yeah, I'm behind on schoolwork. I just have to wrangle time in to keep searching, and I'll likely end up working at McDonald's, but what can you do?"

"Actually, there is something I can do."

Brooke stared up at Michael.

"Allright, Mell, what can you do?"

"I found a little bakery and coffee shop, about five blocks from your place, in the general direction of school, and it's really pretty, the people are nice, the coffee's great, especially for New York, and they're hiring. I would've applied, but the orchestra salary is fine for now, and I knew you needed the job more than I did."

"Oh my lord, Michael." This could be _huge._  This could be the single thing that saved her from being evicted, saved her from having to take out a loan, save her from being kicked out of NYU. "What's it called?"

"True Grit. It's over by Louie's. You have to apply on-sight, the girl said that they'll interview on the spot."

"Michael Mell, you are the best friend ever," Brooke said greatfully, side-hugging him.

He grinned down at her. "Dude, I'm your only friend."

Her fist lightly met his stomach.

"Don't ruin the moment, Mike. See you later!" She said, practically _skipping_ away.

"Where are you going? Don't you have microeconomics?"

"True Grit! I've got time till my next class!"

* * *

Brooke burst into that little coffee shop, the string of bells ringing indignantly, and she stopped in the doorway to catch her breath after having run all the way there, and now that she'd stopped, she registered the stabbing pain in her abdomen. Damnit. 

"Don't stay in the doorway, you at least deserve to come up to the counter," said a tall girl with a nice, wavy brunette bob, standing behind the cash register with a white apron on, with _True Grit_ written on it in black sharpie, and a nametag made of what appeared to be the aluminium from an old drink can painted white, with _Chloe_ spelled out in pink sharpie.

She obliged and came up to the cash register where Chloe stood, clutching her abdomen.

"Hey, you need to sit? You don't look so hot."

She shook her head quickly and waved her off. "Just a little bit of cramping. I'm fine."

"Oh, I hear that. You need a painkiller?"

"I've got some in my bag."

"Sit down and take 'em, Miss, then you can order."

So Brooke sat down sideways in one of the wire chairs at the nearest table, opened her backpack, and took out her makeup bag, and out of that came that little orange pill bottle.

"Can I have some-"

She trailed off into silence as she saw Chloe coming over with a tall glass of water.

"Water? Yep," she said with a soft smile, setting down the glass with a soft clink. "Wow, prescription painkillers? You must have some pretty terrible cramps."

"Oh, that? Yeah," Brooke answered noncommittally, popping out a pill, closing the bottle and putting it and the makeup bag away, zipped up her backpack, and took the pill.

"So, you ready to order now?" Chloe asked.

"Actually, my friend said that you guys were hiring."

"We are!" Chloe said loudly and excitedly, before turning her head toward the back. "Chris! Can you interview her?"

An Asian woman stuck her head out from a doorway. "Yeah, gimme a few."

"Hey, you want something to eat, some coffee, while you wait? On the house, since you're the first person to apply."

"I... I guess..." Brooke trailed off, looking over the menu. A bagel. Yeah, a bagel only cost 2.50. "A chocolate chip bagel?"

"Coming right up. Cream cheese, slicing, and toasting is included, if you want."

"Sure, let's do all of that, please."

"Alright, you stay there, I'll bring it over," Chloe said, briskly walking back behind the counter and grabbing a bagel from the wicker wall display and shoving it down a chute in a piece of equipment that Brooke assumed was the slicer, then putting it in a small countertop oven, and opened a little mini fridge under the counter and retrieved a half-used tub of cream cheese from it, and then a butter knife from a drawer.

While the bagel was toasting, the Asian lady came out of the back room and to the table Brooke was sitting at, with a laptop and a reusable coffee tumbler. "I'm Christine, I'm gonna be interviewing you," she said, sticking a hand out across the table.

"Brooke Lohst," she answered, turning towards her in her seat and shaking her extended hand.

"Nice to meet you. Now, Brooke, do you have any experience in the food or coffee industry?"

"Yeach, I worked at a Starbucks in New Jersey two summers ago, and I was the fry girl at McDonald's for six months, and then I worked at the cash register there."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty one years old."

"Birthday?"

"February 28th. My mom went to the hospital at two in the afternoon and made them induce labour so I wouldn't be born on the 29th."

Christine giggled. "Cool. Okay, what are your past job experiences, besides the Mickey D's and Mermaid Land?"

Brooke decided she liked Christine, and Chloe? Well, Chloe was nice, too. But she hadn't _really_ interacted with her. Then again, she had only interacted with Christine for two minutes. They were both adorable, too.

"I don't know if this counts, but I ran an Etsy from age fifteen to age eighteen. Otherwise, I filed papers for a guy in Manhattan until I got fired last September so he could make an intern do my job for free."

"Etsy works. Can you bake any?"

"No, not really."

"It's okay, we're not hiring for bakers anyway. You said you worked at Starbucks?"

"Yeah, I was a barista. I got trained and everything."

"That's really good. What are certain days and times when you'd be free? By the looks of you, you're a student."

"I am. I have all my classes in the afternoons Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday, so I'd be free until 1:30 each of those days. On Wednesdays and Fridays, I have all morning classes, so I'd be free _at_ 1:30 those days."

"Alright. You didn't mention Saturdays, though."

"Oh, I don't have classes Saturdays. Generally I use that day for myself, and plus, I'm Jewish."

"Oh! That's cool, and that's good, we don't want to give you a seven days a week job if you're a student, it's kind of policy here. We'll pay you fifteen dollars an hour."

"Wait, did I get the job?"

"No offence, but we're desperate. Chloe's been covering shifts for every employee we don't have for a month. Having another official barista would be a big help. Can you take the opening shift, that's 5:00 am to 9:00 am, on Mondays, Tuesdays, Fridays, and Sundays? On Wednesdays and Thursdays, I'd like you take the 2:00 pm to 7:00 pm shift. That's a big one, but we're usually not very busy for the majority of that. For tomorrow and Sunday, Chloe and Jake will train you."

"That sounds good! Thank you so much, you have no idea how bad I need this job," Brooke said, with a bright smile, a smile she hadn't had reason to use since before the mess in September.

"No, thank _you,_ beautiful, you have no idea how bad we need _you,"_ Chloe piped up, coming over with Brooke's bagel. "Sorry, Gracie's old and slow."

"The... toaster?" Brooke asked, taking the white plate from the taller girl. "And thank you. For the bagel. And the job."

"Yep, Rich named all of our kitchen appliances. He shares a couple shifts with you, you'll likely meet him soon," Chloe said. 

Brooke picked up a bagel half as Christine took her laptop back into the back room. It was speckled with rich chocolate chips, and spread with a thick layer of cream cheese. She took a bite.

Holy shit.

"This bagel is fuckin' amazing," she said as soon as she swallowed her first bite, then slapped a hand over her mouth. Goddamn it!

Chloe laughed. "Don't worry, we all swear like sailors here, just not to the customers. I think I made that batch."

"Well, this bagel is amazing. Really."

"Here's your uniform and schedule," Christine said, walking up to her and setting a white apron with _True Grit_ scrawled across the front in obviously very fresh sharpie, and a piece of paper. "We don't care what you wear under it, just as long as it doesn't look like something a lady in a video game would wear or have cuss words on it. On that note, cleavage and booty shorts are okay, you should see Chloe in the summer, and she's the owner, again, as long as you aren't literally showing basically everything, because a bunch of businessmen get their morning coffees here, and one of them will know a person to get us shut down if we let a female employee go shirtless. Outside of work, we don't care what you do. But that hair's gotta go up. Oh, speaking of that, you have to sign something!"

Christine bustled into the back room and came back with a one-page document and a pen. "Just read it over and sign at the bottom, and then you'll be good."

Brooke looked it over, and then signed, and the clock on the wall in front of her caught her eye. "Crap! I've gotta get to class!" She cried, grabbing her backpack, schedule and the apron.

"Hold on, lemme me make you a copy of that, then we'll let you go," Christine said, running again to the back. Her constant running between the back room and out here reminded Brooke of a messenger pigeon.

"If you can be here at 4:15 in the morning, I know that's early, but I'll be there, not Chloe, and I'll let you in and teach you the ropes of opening shift," Christine said, handing Brooke a photocopied version of the document.

"Gotcha. Thanks so much!" Brooke called, stuffing the paper in her backpack and running out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's awfully slow for five 'o clock," Brooke commented.
> 
> "Yeah, don't get used to it, it'll be a madhouse in twenty minutes," Yasaman said with a smile.

Brooke bolted down the escalator to try and catch the yellow line, which was currently sitting in the station, but she'd lived in New York for awhile now, and she knew it'd be gone pretty soon.

Only proved by the fact that when she finally skidded onto the floor and ran up to the train, the doors shut impertinently in her face and seemed to smirk as it sped off, whipping her loose hair and long trademark yellow sweater around.

She checked the monitor. Seven minutes before another train.

Goddamnit. She was gonna be late.

When the train finally arrived, she jumped in quickly, and sped to plop down in an empty seat, pulling her backpack onto her lap, drawing some weird glances from the commuters, and she subtly braced her feet in her favourite winter-y shoes - brown booties - against the floor as the train pulled away.

She paid special attention to the sign above showing the stops, and rushed to get off at her stop so she could transfer to the purple, and luckily, she only had one stop before she could bolt away from the pole she'd latched onto, sweater and hair blowing behind her like a cape.

She ran up the stairs, backpack beating against her with every step, and practically flew down the sidewalk and caught herself on a light pole when she saw the True Grit hanging over the sidewalk, just a couple feet from her.

She walked, briskly, the rest of the way, and saw Christine wiping down the counter from the clear door, her lips moving as she did, though Brooke couldn't tell what she was saying, and tried the handle, but it was locked, as she'd suspected, so she rapped on the glass.

Christine looked up quickly when she heard, hair flipping comically, eyes widening, and her lips curled into a smile as she walked over and unlocked the door to let her in.

"Welcome to hell," she greeted fondly, ushering the taller woman inside.

"I'm sorry I'm so late," Brooke apologised.

"No, you're fine, it's only 5:02."

It was then that Brooke noticed the small Bluetooth speaker on the counter, gently blaring something she vaguely recognised as - was that Requiem?

"Dear Evan Hansen?" Brooke asked.

Christine grinned. "Yep! There's a whole dibs system on the speaker - we'll have to explain it, but god, it's complicated - and I have dibs this morning, but if we're going by the Friday system, you get dibs at 7:30. I don't fully understand the system myself, don't worry if you don't. And, this is my Women of Musical Theatre playlist, I sing a lot, but I won't if you're bothered by that-"

"No, it's fine. My friend's actually in the orchestra for the Pensk Theatre production of Dear Evan Hansen, he does guitar, and that's the only reason I recognised this song, otherwise I've only listened to Hamilton."

"Well, Miss Lohst, we'll have to fix that. Now, you get here, first thing you'd do if you were first is unlock the door, let yourself in, lock behind you, and get to the back, where the alarm is."

Christine grabbed her hand suddenly and pulled her into the back room, which was occupied by a long table with seven chairs, the top absolutely covered and choked with papers, an open laptop on top of them in front of a chair with a purple back, a few filing cabinets, a large cluttered cork board on one wall, a coat rack with a pink parka and a jean jacket hanging up in the far corner, and a small white box on the wall.

Christine pulled her up to it. "You punch in the code and then enter, and it's on the cork board under the pink paper if you forget, but the code is 9270. If you get it wrong three times, the alarm will go off. Otherwise, you've got one minute before it goes off after coming inside."

Brooke tried to pay attention, but she was distracted by the fact that she and Christine were fucking _holding hands_. Goddamnit, she'd always had a thing for ladies, and Christine was frankly adorable.

"Got it?" Christine asked, letting go of Brooke's hand and turning to her.

Brooke blushed a bit, but nodded quickly.

"Okay. After that, you hang up your coat-" Brooke quickly removed her sweater as Christine spoke and went to hang it up, still listening, "Get your apron out an on, pull back that hair, and then we come back out to the main area."

Brooke took out her apron, pulled it up over her head, tied the straps in back, took a hair tie from her wrist, and pulled her hair into a low ponytail. Then, she followed Christine out, hearing the sound of Laura Dreyfuss singing, promptly replaced by someone she didn't recognise singing a song she didn't recognise.

"Now, I already did both of these things, but you would've wiped down the counter and started the oven preheating at 455 degrees, and then get the coffee maker started heating up, which I also did even though I don't make the coffee, we've got a whole laminated sign up on how to operate her on the wall next to her, read that when you've got a second," Christine dictated. "Ellie takes a little while to get started in the morning, but once she does, she'll keep running all day. Jake's our offical barista, he'll be here in like, two seconds, and he'll teach you how to like, actually make it."

"Should I be taking notes?"

Christine giggled.

"Naw, I think you'll be fine. Oop, here's Jake!"

Christine bolted to the door and let in a tall-ish man before he could even knock, giving him a kiss on the cheek, lingering long enough for him to gently transfer her lips to his.

"He's got a girlfriend, you flake! Why are they only nice when they're unavailable?" a lady complained in the background from Christine's playlist, before again beginning to sing.

 _Thank you, Broadway lady, for voicing my exact thoughts, just with different pronouns_ , Brooke thought, sighing softly.

Christine pulled away and grabbed his hand, pulling him behind the counter. "Brooke, this is Jake, my boyfriend and master barista," she said, beaming up at her.

Brooke took his outstretched hand and shook it, meanwhile taking in the man. Tall, probably muscular under his red and white letter jacket, slightly unzipped, revealing a tiny bit of a pale blue t-shirt underneath, blue jeans, Nikes, blonde hair held up with gel, but not a mass amount of gel. Respectable.

"You're the newbie I heard so much about, huh?" Jake asked, letting go of Brooke's hand after a nice, firm, good shake. "Well, looks like Chrissy's already started Ellie, but she's not quite ready yet, so let's get started on prep and the other machines."

Jake guided her through the coffee making process, and Brooke found it similar to what she'd done at Starbucks, and felt half-forgotten skills blossoming back up to the surface. Jake was cool, no nonsense, and a good explainer. Christine had landed herself a good man.

Which was kinda sad. Wasn't she supposed to hate him, since he was what was keeping her from Christine?

Wait, did she have a crush on Christine? After spending maybe an hour with her altogether in her entire life?

A knock sounded at the door, breaking her out of her thoughts, and craned her neck to see a dark-skinned woman with short, curly dark ringlets and a septum ring, dressed a blue and silver sweater, a silver scarf covering her from mouth to armpit, skinny black jeans, and combat boots, and a Kate Spade bag slung over her shoulder.

Hold that thought about Christine. This girl was pretty cute, too.

"I'll get it," Jake volunteered, since they'd just kinda been idling around waiting for the coffeemaker - Ellie? to heat up, since the other 'training' had been completed already, and Brooke knew what to do when it finally heated up, and listening to Christine's playlist, Jake and Christine chatting a bit, Brooke looking at her phone.

"Hey, Yasaman!" Christine called from the counter as Jake showed in the lady, who tugged off her scarf and sweater, exposing a long-sleeved solid hot pink shirt, in the cozy heating of the shop, and smiled at Christine.

"Hi, Chris!" she responded brightly, going to the back, presumably to hang up her scarf and sweater and purse, and came back empty handed, save for her white True Grit apron.

"So who's the new girl?" she asked, and Brooke could've sworn she saw a faint blush from her.

"I'm Brooke," Brooke answered, holding out a hand to shake, which Yasaman took and shook firmly with a small, shy smile. Her shake was even better than Jake's, if that was even possible.

"Someone finally applied, huh?" Yasaman commented, turning to Christine.

"Yeah. She's a new barista."

"God knows we need one of those. Did Christine show you around, besides the back room?"

"Shit!" Christine reacted, before Brooke could. "You're right, Yasi, I only showed her the back room, good thinking!"

"No worries, I can show her around while I get the bagels and crossiants started," she said. "Here, Brooke, come with me."

Follow a cute girl? No problem.

Yasaman showed her to a door, painted a shade of pink that warranted a surgeon general's warning "I know, it's awful," she said, unlocking the door and pushing in. There was a small hallway with two doors facing them on the short side, one big and silver and metal, the other plain white and wooden, and a covered cart at the end of the hall. "White one goes to the bathroom, we've only got a one-stall neutral room because it's New York, and the silver is the big fridge, we call him RJ, thanks to Rich."

Yasaman opened the fridge, stepped in, and took out two blobs of dough, which she handed to Brooke, and then two trays of uncooked bagels.

She led Brooke back out to the main area and plopped the bagels into the top of a double oven, and punched in the numbers for a timer. Then, she headed back to the pink door, and Brooke hesitated for a moment, unsure, before nearly tripping over her feet to follow her.

She was in the fridge again, and handed Brooke two more big trays, these ones with more bagels, and took two herself, these with uncooked croissants, and slammed the door shut behind her with her right leg.

These trays went in the oven too, and then Brooke started the coffee going after Ellie beeped annoyingly to let her know she was ready, and Yasaman wheeled in the covered cart.

"This is the pastry cart, it's got all the unsold stuff from yesterday and everything that's fresh from when the people at the closing shift baked," she explained, wheeling it out.

Then, Yasaman directed her to the filling of the pastry case, putting the unsold stuff from the day before in first, and making sure everything looked well-stocked and pretty, and filling the three pastry trays that went on the counter. Christine and Jake, meanwhile, were stocking cups, straws, and various other things, and preparing coffee, of course. When Yasaman and Brooke were done with that, she checked her watch.

"4:57. Let's go ahead and put up the chalkboard outside and then turn on the open sign," Yasaman dictated, and Christine ran to the back room and retrieved a chalkboard and went outside to set it out on the sidewalk, and Yasaman clicked on the annoying blue and red open sign in the window.

The first customers came in not much later, most just stopping in for a coffee and bagel or something on their way to the subway, or on their way to work from the subway. Christine manned the cash register, Brooke manned the coffee along with Jake, and Yasaman retrieved pastries, toasted bagels, and such.

It was nice, and Brooke felt a harmony developing between her and Jake, which was doubly nice, something to get used to. Maybe not every shift, because there was just about no chance in hell they shared all the same shifts, but at least some, and it was fine by her. Jake was nice and he was a good partner.

At five in the morning, nothing was quite moving yet, and they found themselves spending a lot of time just standing around talking.

"It's awfully slow for five 'o clock," Brooke commented.

"Yeah, don't get used to it, it'll be a madhouse in twenty minutes," Yasaman said with a smile. "Tell me about yourself, New Girl."

"I- um," Brooke stuttered, caught off guard by the sudden and open question. "I'm Brooke Lohst, but you already knew that, I'm a junior at NYU, graphic design major, double minor with French and advertising, um, single-"

God, why did she say that?! Of all things, that was what she said about herself?!

Yasaman snorted and Jake, Christine, and the guy she was ringing up all laughed, while Brooke blushed profusely and busied herself with Ellie.

Yasaman was right, and True Grit was hopping with customers by 5:30, tourists getting an early start, commuters, families. Nobody could catch a break or have a conversation until 7:15, when the constant stream of customers suddenly shut off like a faucet.

Brooke and Yasaman became caught up in a conversation about their interests (Yasi was a Slytherin, Brooke a Hufflepuff, they both hated classic rock, both loved dancing, both liked Green Day and Twenty One Pilots, neither of them knew any musicals beside Dear Evan Hansen and Hamilton, and both had a love-hate relationship with their hair, that last one for different reasons.)

In fact, they were so caught up in it that Christine had to tap Brooke on the shoulder twice to get her attention.

"It's 7:30, your turn for the music. Turn on your Bluetooth and it's AR-114," Christine said.

So Brooke took out her phone and connected the speaker, and took at least seven minutes scrolling through her Spotify to try and find something that was appropriate before finally scrolling back up fast and selecting a playlist with her eyes closed.

And she immediately regretted it.

When she heard the gentle, smoothing thrum of the bass, she knew what this was, and quickly paused the music.

Yasaman laughed. "Someone hijack your playlists?"

"No, that one's just got bad memories associated. Here." Brooke selected a different playlist, and the Dixie Chicks instantly began singing from the speakers.

Wouldn't have been her first choice, but eh. Better than the playlist titled _b &b<3_

But her country playlist didn't play for long, and Brooke found that she and Yasaman both had the same end of shift time, 8:30.

"Alright, Brooke, Yasi, you're free to go," Christine said, at 8:30 on the nose.

When Yasi and Brooke went to the back to collect their jackets and bags, Yasaman began talking.

"You said you were single, right?"

"I... um... yeah?"

"Maybe I can fix that," she said, giving Brooke a small slip of paper.

Brooke looked at it to find a number written on it in neat handwriting, and looked up to see Yasi smiling.

"Thanks," was all Brooke said, and she mentally berated herself for it on the train to class.


	3. Chapter 3

"They gave you a job in under twenty minutes? _Damn_ , Brooke."

"Shut up, Michael, I'm getting to the good part!" Brooke cried into the phone.

"Well, you'd better make it quick, we've only got a twenty minute break. Our Jared actor is loosing her voice," Michael said.

"Wait, you're doing genderbent Dear Evan Hansen?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's some rando community theatre in Queens, not exactly the Music Box. We've got wiggle room for shit like this. Also, the guy who plays Zoe is really hot, just saying."

"That's cool. But anyway, so I go in stupid early on my first day, and Christine- I mentioned that Christine was really cute, right?"

"Like, six times."

"Well, Christine's really fucking cute. But she has a _boyfriend!_  Her boyfriend is really nice, actually. And then, god sends this really hot girl in, her name's Yasi, she and I share a couple shifts, and during a lull, she asked me to tell her about myself, and like and idiot, I said I was single, and at the end of our shift, when we were getting our coats, she's like, so you said you were single, yeah well I can fix that and she hands me her fucking number!"

"Good lord, Brooke."

"Yup."

"You really did it this time. You haven't texted her yet?"

"No."

"Well, text her." There was some muffled talking from Michael's end, and then he came back. "Gotta go, Anna finished her throat lozenge."

"Is she Jared?"

"Indeed. I think I'm gonna go after Jeremy, he's Zoe."

"Good luck, friend. Do you think I should ask Yasi out?"

"Maybe. Feel her out first. Okay, really gotta go now, bye." Michael hung up before she could say goodbye, too.

Oh well. Maybe she could busy herself with homework. Lord knows she needed to fucking apply herself better.

So she booted up her drawing tablet and decided to lounge on her bed while she worked on the assignment, rather than her desk, it was awfully drafty in her apartment, anyway, and the desk was closer to it, and there were blankets on her bed.

After working on the assignment for awhile, she decided to take a break and draw something for tumblr. Before _all_ her followers disappeared.

First, she tentatively checked tumblr for her follower count, being sure not to look at her dash... or open up her very full askbox. She didn't need to be there all day.

Still over ten thousand followers. As she scrolled through her stats, she did see a couple of angry people ranting on her posts about how they were unfollowing because she'd been inactive, but other than that...

She decided to draw herself, for a change. She usually didn't like drawing herself, since she could never get it quite right, when she could get most other people right on the first time, and according to Michael and a ton of her followers, she captured personality and feelings pretty well.

She settled for just a simple sketch of her bust with a sweater paw covering a love-stricken grin, a light blush on her cheeks, her hair falling around her shoulders. It took a couple tries to get some things right, and then she had to clean up her guide lines, but once she did all ... she was actually kind of satisfied with it. Weird.

Then, since she'd drawn herself love-stricken and happy, she decided, why not draw the reason she felt this way?

Her drawing of Yasaman was a hell of a lot better than the one of herself, no joke. She managed to capture Yasi's overall cool, confident, content demeanour, her shiny, bright, gorgeous dark brown eyes, the warm undertones and shine of her dark skin, her shiny ringlets and her black headband and... god.

She screenshotted the pictures, sent them to her laptop, and reluctantly left her blanket nest to grab it, tripping over cords and shoeboxes full of stuff she'd yet to get rid of, and quickly stumbled back onto her bed, and opened up tumblr.

**Attachment: 2 Images**

**hey guys, i know i've been on a pretty long unannounced hiatus, and the queue ran out a couple weeks ago, i haven't answered asks, etc, and i'm sorry. i went through some not-so-good shit irl, and i'm kinda struggling in school, but i'm gonna do my best to answer all the asks in a timely fashion and post some more stuff, and i might start doing commissions to keep the heat on. thx to everyone who's stayed loyal & defended me!!! you guys are just the sweetest fanbase i could ever have. anyway, i finally got a job and i met a rlly cute girl who works with me and she gave me her number!! actually met 2, no, 3 cute girls, but one's attached & probs straight, and idk about the other one:(**

**stay safe, lovies!! <3 <3 ^-^**

**\- space_brookie :)**

Aaannd... post.

No fewer than two minutes later, her laptop dinged as yet another ask was added to her box.

**Anonymous asked: so does that mean your attached now?????? also this doesnt ezcuse your hiatus, you didnt tell us & you didnt even update the queue or answer asks. not cool. u probs didn't actualle have stuff happen, just decided 2 B lazey. fuck you, unfollowing.**

**  
space_brookie_arts answered: *you're *doesn't *excuse *didn't *actually *lazy**

**also, sweetheart, i'd rather not have you here if you're gonna send hate & disrespect me when i apologised. thanks for your 1 1/2 a cent, didn't need em tho!!! :)))**

**  
Anonymous asked: its 2 cents, dumbass slut.**

Okay, anon hate sprinkled with misspelled words she could handle, but the s word hurt. After everything, she didn't need to be called that. And sure, whomever it was probably didn't know, but Jesus Christ. So she just deleted the ask.

**demi_wife_of_hermes_ &_demeter asked: oh so ur just gonna ignore me???? what, did calling you a dumbass slut hurt ur feelings???**

Thanks, demi wife, for your URL. Blocked. Answered message deleted before it could gather notes.

That was enough tumblr for today.

Now... maybe she should text Yasi.

**Brooke: is this Yasaman?**

**Yasaman: yupppppppppppp hiiiiiiiiii**

**Brooke: k how high r u**

**Yasaman: 5'7**

**Brooke: what am i gonna do with u**

**Yasaman: kidding. i just like to try & scare people off before anything gets off the ground, and if they're not scared away...**

**Brooke: then wut???????? 0~0**

**Yasaman: then i ask 'em out.**

**Brooke: hmmm**

**Yasaman: you free monday nite?**

**Brooke: ye**

**Yasaman: coffee shop? just us?? not TG, course. just this little hipster place in soho**

**Brooke: ahh, soho. land of the artists and home of the gays. also isn't TG already pretty hipster??**

**Yasaman: rude im bi and yeah but this is like the Epitome of hipsters.**

**Brooke: cool im pan**

**Yasaman: very cool**

**Brooke: what time?**

**Yasaman: 8:30? Or is that too late?**

**Brooke: no it's fun!!!! should probably take some time for homewrk anyways. or tumblr stockpiling**

**Yasaman: u on tumblr?**

**Brooke: ye. artist tumblr**

**Yasaman: url plz so i can passive agressively block u if we break up??? lol**

**Brooke: space-brookie-arts**

**Yasaman: wtf**

**Yasaman: i followed u before u were even cool. saw your kleinsan art and immediately followed**

**Brooke: wow who's the hipster now**

**Brooke: also that old kliensan shit????? god that was AWFUL**

**Yasaman: no actually it was REALLY cool!!!! Still is!!!!!!! just 'cuz your art is different and improved now doesn't mean that the old stuff isn't good!!!!!!**

**Brooke: awww thanks**

**Brooke: ooh just remembered my best friend is in the orchestra for this community theatre genderbent deh production**

**Yasaman: oooooh genderbent im buying tickets**

**Brooke: no since i know him we can go together for free probs!!! it's not open yet anyway, and the tickets aren't up yet. i think they go on sale next week. plus he could probably get us backstage, or at least really good stagedoor spots**

**Yasaman: that means a lot to me!!! that'd be really cool!!!**

**Yasaman: but anyways. snowblast coffee shop on the corner of williams & julieta, 8:30 monday nite???**

**Brooke: yeah!!!!!!!!!! :))))**

**Yasaman: see u at work tmmrw morning, right?**

**Brooke: no, i don't work on saturdays. sunday?**

**Yasaman: not if you've got the opening shift:(**

**Brooke: i do. jake's still training me.**

**Yasaman: awww, darn, i work the lunch shift. oh well. what shift on monday?**

**Brooke: opening again**

**Yasaman: :(**

**Yasaman: guess i'll se ya monday nite then**

**Brooke: :( but see ya then!!!! really excited about this!!!!!!**

**Yasaman: :)))))) <3**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter has like no substance????? but i don't care enough to write more than useless filler & fastburn, because spoiler alert, this ship doesn't last long, but it's pure while it does. playride IS the endgame here, but brooke's gonna go through a couple other suitors (including chloe:p) before getting to christine.
> 
> also i've been playing be less single and holy MOTHER is this game good. i've only tried michael, christine, and brooke's routes, and only one for each, and I've only won brooke's.
> 
> come yell at me on tumblr @dev-bee or my art sideblog (taking requests!!!!!) @devi-rose-art

**Author's Note:**

> Me: *has a draft longfic and a multi-chap to work on*
> 
> Me: *does this*
> 
> Side note, I discovered that there was a Pinkberry downtown and it literally saved my life :,)
> 
> The name of the coffee shop is from Girl In Pieces by Kathrine Glasgow. The MC, Charlie, works there, but in that book, it's actually a restaurant, I think.


End file.
